September 4, 2025

THE HAMMER FILES: Old Town Frank’s Welcome

Jack Hammer04 mins
Cartoon. Noir. Gray scale. Jack Hammer is sitting on a worn couch in a dimly lit living room. Across from him, his aged uncle Frank, looking like he's in his hundreds, sits in an old armchair, smoking a cigar. The room is filled with dramatic shadows and the faint haze of cigar smoke. The scene captures a gritty, contemplative mood. Cartoon. Noir. Gray scale. Jack Hammer is sitting on a worn couch in a dimly lit living room. Across from him, his aged uncle Frank, looking like he's in his hundreds, sits in an old armchair, smoking a cigar. The room is filled with dramatic shadows and the faint haze of cigar smoke. The scene captures a gritty, contemplative mood.
This entry is part 6 of 16 in the series Chapter 1: The Case of December's Debt.

The cab dropped me off in front of a brownstone that had seen better days, probably before I was born. Old Town hadn’t changed much, still smelled like stale beer and forgotten dreams. I walked up the cracked steps, feeling heavier with every creak of the wood. This was it. Frank’s territory.

A Face from the Past

He was in the living room, sitting in a worn armchair that looked as old as he did. The room was dim, filled with the ghosts of cigar smoke and a lifetime of shady deals. Frank was pushing ninety, maybe, but if I had to guess, I’d put him in his hundred and nineties. His face was a roadmap of wrinkles, every line a story he’d probably never tell. His eyes, though, they were still sharp, like chips of flint in a pile of old ash. They saw too much, always had.

He didn’t say anything, just waved a gnarled hand toward the couch. I sat down, the springs groaning under my weight. The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, like the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of light from the window. He was waiting. Always waiting.

The Code of the Street

“Rocco Racini,” I said, cutting to the chase. No need for pleasantries. Frank knew the name. Everyone in this city knew the name. It was a poison that ran deep.

Frank just grunted, a low sound from the back of his throat. He lit a fresh cigar, the tip glowing like a warning light in the gloom. “That boy’s got a long memory,” he finally rasped, the words scratching like sandpaper. “And a long reach.”

“He’s got a hit on me,” I told him. “A setup. A vendetta for his old man.”

Frank took a slow drag, the smoke curling around his ancient face. “Family business,” he said. “Always comes back to blood and loyalty.” He looked at me, those flint eyes seeing right through the years, right through the tough guy act. “You came to the right place, kid. In this town, blood and loyalty are all you got when the chips are down.”

He didn’t ask what I wanted. He didn’t have to. He knew. And in that moment, sitting in that dusty room with the old man, I knew I wasn’t alone. Not yet, anyway. The game was still on, and Frank was about to deal a new hand.

Series Navigation<< THE HAMMER FILES: Old Town FrankTHE HAMMER FILES: A New Hand >>

Chapter 1: The Case of December's Debt.

Related posts:

A gritty, black and white image of Jack Hammer, a private eye in a fedora and trench coat, sitting at his cluttered desk with a closed wooden box in front of him.The Desk of Jack Hammer A grayscale, high-contrast pulp-noir graphic novel panel shows Jack Hammer, a burly man in a trench coat and fedora, standing at a payphone located in the back corner of a dimly lit, gritty bar. He holds the receiver with a serious, intense expression. The bar's bottles and shadowy figures are blurred in the background, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.THE HAMMER FILES: The Setup – Jack Calls Jamie Diamond A grayscale, high-contrast pulp-noir graphic novel panel shows Jack Hammer, a burly man in a trench coat and fedora, walking down a rundown city street at night. The street is lined with dilapidated buildings, broken windows, and fire escapes, all rendered with sharp lines and deep shadows, conveying a sense of urban decay and grittiness.THE HAMMER FILES: A New Hand A grayscale, high-contrast pulp-noir graphic novel panel shows a busty cocktail bunny in a classic uniform (ears, bow tie, corset, tail) holding a tray of martinis at a dimly lit, gritty bar. A trench-coat-clad figure sits at the bar in the background.THE HAMMER FILES: A Deal with Diamond